Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 118245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 591(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 591(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
It seemed like every few hours I’d be moved to a different location. I’d tried to listen for any clues as to where I was being taken, but the thick, wool hood over my head muffled any sound.
At first, I thought it might be less because of the number of meals, but then I realized Fino was only bothering to feed me just enough to keep me alive. A cornetto and some lukewarm cafe in the morning and some soft polenta with stewed tomatoes in what I assumed was the evening.
Hearing Matteo’s voice in my head to eat and keep up my strength until he could rescue me, I choked down the meager meals.
There was a time when I would have thought I wasn’t worth rescuing.
Not anymore.
Matteo had shown me how all the loyalty and perseverance I’d wasted on my family over the years could be turned into inner strength.
How ironic.
In fighting him, I’d learned to fight for myself.
And it was through witnessing how his family interacted that I finally accepted a hard truth.
The fact that Antonia and my father were my blood didn’t give them the right to walk all over me. It didn’t give them the right to take advantage of my better nature. To use me for their own ends. To treat me like I was nothing.
That wasn’t family. That was abuse.
Family was love and laughter and support and being there for one another.
Family was choosing to surround yourself with people who not only mattered to you, but to whom you also mattered.
Family was respect.
Fuck that old adage that blood was thicker than water.
It was a stupid saying. You couldn’t survive on blood, but clean, fresh water was life-giving. Things grew and thrived with water, like the ancient grapevines at Cavalieri.
Water was the family you chose.
I’d had a lot of time to think while trapped in this cell. My single-minded determination to find out what happened to my mother was part of the reason why I had been so easily led into this mess. But why?
For some childish dream that things would be different in my life had my mother been around? I realized now that was unlikely. My father and sister were who they were. Nothing would have changed with my mother in the home.
And if she wasn’t dead, then my selfish insistence on pursuing her disappearance could have led to her discovery. I could have jeopardized the life my mother sacrificed her daughters to achieve.
Although deep down, as much as I wanted to, I didn’t truly believe she was living a new life somewhere under an assumed name. I knew she was dead. I also knew the mafia were very skilled at hiding bodies and never facing justice.
And now there was a good chance, if Matteo didn’t find me in time, that I would share the same fate.
How ironic.
Another click of the latch.
My chest tightened as my stomach cramped.
Instinctively, I knew it was too early for my next paltry tray.
Something was happening.
The door swung open, and Fino appeared. “It’s time.”
I started to speak and choked. My throat sore from screaming for help the first day. I cleared my throat and tried again, whispering, “Why are you doing this, Fino? I don’t understand.”
“Get up.”
“Please. If it’s my mother’s investigation, you don’t have to pursue it anymore.”
“I said, get up.”
“Is it my father? Did he pay you to stop looking into his affairs? Did he pay you to kill me?”
“Shut up.”
Rising from the stained prison mattress that served as my only furniture in the cell, I asked, “Are you going to kill me now?”
“No more questions.”
He ripped a strip of duct tape from the roll and held it between his hands as he approached me.
“No!”
The skin around my wrists stung as I pulled and twisted them, desperate to get free.
Despite the duct tape wrapped several times around my head and over my mouth, I still tried to scream for help. In vain.
Terrified, I shook my arms as I tried to break the steering wheel. My wrists were bound too tightly with duct tape to ever hope to free myself that way. My only hope would be to break the wheel and then use it to smash open the window.
Even if I could break free, I knew that Fino and his three thug companions were nearby. I’d never outrun all four of them.
Again I screamed as a clear liquid ran down the windshield, then over the hood. The noxious fumes burned my nose. Fino then appeared as he circled around the car while dousing it in petrol.
After tossing the plastic container aside, he took out his phone and pointed it at me. “Smile for the Judge, Antonia.”
Why was he calling me Antonia? He knew damn well I was Antonella.
What the hell was going on?
My eyes widened as I shook my head and tried to object despite the tape. The only sounds I made were muffled whimpers.